


From Scratch

by Malice_and_Macarons



Series: Monochrome Universe [2]
Category: DCU
Genre: Domestic, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Multi, rogues - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:12:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malice_and_Macarons/pseuds/Malice_and_Macarons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles revolving around the characters in the Monochrome Universe, primarily the disaster that was raising an impossible child and getting along with the Rogues for any extended amount of time. Which is...difficult to say the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Black - Raising Noire

**Author's Note:**

> These stories also fill in the background/history for most of the other stories in the Monochrome AU.

How were you expected to talk to a five year old that had a look like you’d just stepped on their favourite crayon as their resting face?  
More importantly how did you come to terms with the fact you were dancing around a five year old like they were a ticking time bomb?

It was shameful really, here he was the fastest man on earth and Barry couldn’t even get his houseguest to come down and eat dinner with him. He’d faced down some of the most threatening people alive – he worked with _Batman_ for Pete’s sake and here he was, fidgeting outside of the spare room that his new housemate had scarcely left since his arrival a week ago.

The boy wasn’t much trouble really, in fact he was ideal for most people. Didn’t make a sound, kept things clean and never gave Barry any extra work. Sometimes the Flash was positive that when he came home in the afternoon the house was cleaner than he left it. Dishes stacked themselves mysteriously and the floor had definitely been scrubbed down. It was scary alright, just down right creepy.

“It’s like living with a cleaning obsessed ghost.” Barry lamented in a low whine, sinking down against the wall by the door to the spare room.

In all honesty Barry hadn’t objected that fiercely when the team decided he should take the boy. How could he? Bruce was giving him that stare, the one that bore straight through him and scrutinised his very character – telling him that if he made the wrong decision he’d be judged harshly.

Barry had seen him use it over a slice of cake before.  
Last time Barry took the last slice of anything around the Batman.

“He wasn’t going to eat it anyway.” Barry reasoned with himself, unaware of the pair of icy eyes peering out at him from the slightly ajar door. When he did notice the red gaze, Barry damn near jumped out of his flesh. 

“N-Noire! I was just--” Barry made a hurried verbal stumble, trying to get some words out before--

_Bam_

That…

Slumping forward with a heavy sigh Barry stared dejectedly at the door that had been once again shut in his face. He just didn’t get it, why was the kid being so hostile all of a sudden?

Okay sure he’d never exactly been chipper or friendly but when Barry thought back to the kid that had fallen asleep against his shoulder that day in the watchtower he couldn’t help but think that there’d been some kind of crazy mix up and he’d brought home the wrong kid. Thinking back on it Barry could only assume Noire was still in shock and that was why he was in such an agreeable state at the time.

And just like that Barry remembered why he hadn’t tried shipping the unfriendly little shadow off to another league member – it was because Barry felt like he understood the kid’s feelings.

He’d lost his mother, seen it happen and the first time Barry had heard the words ‘I wasn’t fast enough’ slip from the boy’s lips as he cried his eyes out – well he knew he had to keep the kid. Maybe he could help, make it hurt less for Noire – help him feel like he wasn’t alone, and that he could save people he loved.

Barry wanted to give Noire what he hadn’t been given when it was him in that dark place.

So with a heavy sigh, Barry gathered his nerves and gently tapped his knuckle against the hardwood door. At first he was greeted with silence but then ever so slowly the door opened up and Barry found himself looking at the same stony stare the kid always gave him. Barry didn’t expect to be hated by the boy so quickly.

“Will you come downstairs and eat something?” Barry asked gently, struggling to find the right balance of tenderness and acceptance. He didn’t want the push Noire but he had to do something. The dark haired boy hadn’t eaten since he arrived and even though Bats had tried to give Barry the run down on Noire’s physical differences - it did nothing to calm Barry’s concerns. The kid had to eat, no matter what he was.

It didn’t seem like he was going to reply, hugging closer to the open door as if to hide completely from Barry, but the glare was gone. Instead Noire wore an expression Barry could only sum up as anxious. The door remained open even though the silence continued and Barry took that as an opportunity. 

“I promise I can cook something nice?” He tried hopefully. “Do you have a favourite dinner? I sure I could--”

“Not hungry.”

Damn. Barry felt a little deflated when Noire spoke only to completely shut down his attempts. He thought maybe this time Noire would agree. Was this really hopeless after all?

Then suddenly Noire’s bright eyes were on Barry’s face again and abruptly his body language changed. “D-Don’t!” He barked urgently, alarming Barry purely because of the force behind his usually quiet voice. It seemed like the outburst surprised Noire as well because he quickly turned his gaze to the floor and continued in a small voice. “Don’t be upset.”

“Then…” Barry hesitated, not sure if he wanted to push his luck. “…will you come and eat something?”

Again there was silence as Noire seemed to struggle with his options but ultimately something in his mind won out and he reluctantly gave an affirmative nod. Hooray for emotional blackmail! 

Barry couldn’t make dinner fast enough.

Logically he knew the food was being prepared in record time, only being hindered by the time required to actually cook, but it was still not fast enough to Barry. This was his chance, his first sign that maybe the kid didn’t hate the very ground he walked on. Somewhere in Barry’s mad rush to get something edible in front of his guest, Noire had brought himself downstairs and sat himself at the dinning table.

In the brief moments Barry caught sight of the young man he noticed that he looked no more or less comfortable than he had in the confines of his room. Barry wasn’t sure if it was just a really good poker face or if the kid really was that emotionless inside.

He dearly hoped that Noire would just be an awesome card player one day.

Undeterred by Noire’s lack of enthusiasm, Barry kept himself busy, getting out plates and checking that he was getting the right ingredients in the pot. It wasn’t hard to make spaghetti right? Nah, easy as pie! Actually Barry had never made a pie so…

“You eat a lot.” Barry damn near tripped when he heard Noire speak, not having expected anything besides stony silence from the kid. Barry was nothing if not quick on his feet however and in no time he was smiling again. Noire glanced at him fleetingly, almost like he was embarrassed to look at Barry for too long. “Do you all eat this much?”

“Not really.” Barry chuckled, giving the pot another quick stir as he rattled off some rather useless information. “Gotta eat more than most to keep up my metabolism. I’ll just drop if I try running on an empty tank. This one time I was running across the Atlantic and suddenly, splosh! I just sank right down into the water, I think I would have rather drowned than the lecture Bats gave me afterwards.”

Then Noire laughed.  
It had been so quiet that Barry almost missed it but Noire had definitely just laughed. The sound was so jarring that Barry actually stopped moving entirely to stare at his guest. Immediately Noire was back to that poker face of his but Barry could see a little bit of embarrassment lingering on his face.

“I just…” Noire shifted uncomfortably. “Thought it was funny, that you eat a lot and I don’t eat much.”

Barry kept his smile but a slightly more serious look came onto his face as he yanked the pot off the stove and haphazardly dished it out onto two plates. “But you still have to eat.” He insisted while setting a plate of steaming spaghetti in front of Noire.

The way the kid was looking at it, you’d think it was still moving or something. Barry sat down in his own seat but couldn’t eat just yet, he was waiting expectantly for Noire to eat. He had to reassure himself that he was doing good – that his guest wouldn’t starve on his watch.

Once or twice Noire glanced up at Barry, as if unsure if it was really okay to eat, but then finally he picked up his fork and in the usual silence he ate his dinner. Barry couldn’t help but beam, relief flooding through him now that Noire had finally eaten something. With that success fuelling his confidence, Barry tried to push for more conversation. 

“What did you use to eat Noire?” He asked, trying to be conversational but struggling to keep the enthusiasm from his tone.

“We ate together.” The answer took a while but Noire eventually did give one and after a moment of careful consideration he continued to offer up a little more information. “There were lots of us to feed, so sometimes not everyone had enough or they wanted more.” Noire smiled faintly as if reliving a silly memory. “So Alois and I would give them our servings most days, the younger kids needed more than what they got.”

When the name Alois slipped out, Noire visibly deflated and with the fork still lingering near his mouth he mumbled under his breath. “I hope he comes home soon.”

Barry frowned slightly, knowing that Noire was worried about his brother and that there’d been no word of him since the day Noire came into their care. His whereabouts was unknown and it was probably weighing heavily on Noire.

Knowing that Noire hadn’t wanted Barry to hear that part, he mercifully feigned ignorance and instead praised Noire for being kind to the younger kids. Then as an afterthought added that he should eat more anyway. The conversation trailed off a little after that but when Noire was just about finished with his serving he paused to speak again.

“Why do you have so many different foods?” Noire asked after a while, staring into the kitchen like it was a strange concept. “People I mean, why are there so many different types of foods? They’re so…colourful.”

“What do you mean why?” Barry laughed, a little thrown by the question. “People like different tastes so I guess we just cater for everyone. Everyone has a favourite food – what’s yours?”

“I don’t have one.” Noire answered flatly.

“Well how about a taste?” Barry tried uncertainly. “Sweet, bitter?”

For a few seconds Noire seemed to think before he answered just as bluntly as before. “I don’t know what they taste like. I have no sense of taste.”

“What?” Barry was understandably shocked but Noire didn’t seem troubled by the whole thing.

“Lacie hadn’t taught it to us yet.” He explained quietly. “It took a while to learn will and individuality – I suppose taste was a little less important than the other things she had to teach us.”

Barry had too many questions to ask over the course of one dinner that seemed to be ending, so for now he stuck with the one he thought was the most important. “How do you teach someone to taste?”

“Lacie had her ways.” Noire almost smiled when he said that, it was _almost_ cheeky but he was quickly back to being serious. “Hm, Lacie taught us individuality by letting us pick our favourite colour to show we could be different and she taught us sight through motion and colours. So I guess…to teach taste she would have given us something from each flavour? Maybe. She always seemed to know what she was doing but I never fully understood.”

“Tell you what.” Barry felt his enthusiasm return. “This weekend I’ll take you out and we can try all different foods – I can teach you taste!” There was something he didn’t think he’d ever find himself saying.

Then Noire smiled, a full open smile and for a few seconds Barry felt a sort of pride he’d never encountered before.

And then Noire dropped to the floor.

The mad rush that ensued involved Barry panicking in the worst possible fashion, madly dashing around the house to find anything that might be of use. He ended up with buckets and damp cloths; he definitely needed the buckets for when Noire began to throw up. As a last resort he called Bruce, infuriating the bat for all his shouting over the phone – apparently Bruce could have done without the hysterics.

Regardless of his irritation Bruce did come to check on them when Barry claimed Noire was dying. He might have over reacted a little bit – just a _tiny_ bit. As moody as he could be, Bruce was nothing if not reliable when it came to keeping his league members safe, so Barry was hardly surprised when Bruce showed up on his doorstep half an hour after the call went out.

Barry could have gotten him there in ten minutes if he’d asked but Bruce had a thing against being carried and Barry wasn’t about to argue.

Immediately Bruce went up stairs to check on Noire. Barry had left him a few buckets just in case the vomiting made a reappearance but with how little Noire ate to begin with there wasn’t much to actually throw up.

The second he stepped back out of Noire’s room, Bruce had started firing off questions. Had Noire acted strange before becoming sick, what were the symptoms, had anything out of the ordinary happened – as in had Noire done something a human wouldn't normally do. In most of the answers Barry explained that everything was completely fine until Noire dropped. 

Bruce as always had a different perspective on things. 

“What’s this?” He asked as they came to stop by the kitchen door, it was still a mess from when Barry had been cooking dinner and the food he never ended up touching was left on the counter. Bruce was eyeing it like it was poisonous.

“Spaghetti?” Barry supplied uncertainly. 

“Did you feed this to Noire?” Bruce continued, picking up the plate of food. The way he looked and held the plate made it seem like it was a toxic material.

“W-Well yes…?” Barry could already feel Bruce preparing a lecture in his head – he could see the visceral joy in Bruce during moments like this, even if he pretended it wasn’t there. Barry knew damn well that Bruce loved to scold – or maybe he was just thinking that because he was bitter that he always ended up on the receiving end of those lectures.

“And I’m assuming you made this while moving a little too quick?” It really wasn’t a question and Barry slowly began to realise where he’d miss-stepped. “This is barely cooked Barry.” And here comes the lecture. “Not everything can be rushed, the world isn’t going to run to keep up with you. You have to actually practice patience sometimes.”

It was a good twenty minutes before Barry got a word in and even then he barely got out an apology before Bruce was reprimanding him again.  
That was the day that it was decided Noire would learn how to cook and Barry would be getting some lessons from the Bat in control and patience. Long, painful lessons.

At the very least Noire didn’t seem too fussed about the whole event – he just made a point to keep a closer eye on Barry when he made anything to eat. Which, despite Noire’s insistence to be present during food preparations, was actually an improvement. They ended up eating together from then on and Barry thought it was almost worth Bruce’s scolding. 

 _Almost_.


	2. Black - Clumsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry should read the instructions more closely.

 

The number of times Barry had to physically catch Noire was becoming ridiculous.

A stumble over a discarded toy, a misadventure on porch steps or the simple task of carrying _anything,_ left Barry with the exhausting task of saving the kid before he broke something during his many trips and blunders.

It was like he had a blind spot to hazards and even when there was nothing to physically fall over, the kid seemed to trip up on his own two feet. Barry had tried to make the place as safe as possible, nothing got left on the floor anymore and he frequently warned Noire about any upraised surfaces or even the slightest changes in ground level – like a rug for example which, yes, Noire had tripped on before. 

There was only so much super speed could make up for when it came to constant stumbles and blunders. Barry was getting nervous that eventually Noire would fall somewhere he couldn’t see or hear him and really get hurt. The kid constantly reminded him that his body was tougher than Barry thought but having strong bones wouldn’t do much for him if he fell off a cliff or something.

What was more baffling as the fact that Bruce had insisted it was impossible for Noire to actually trip over. Barry had explained each and every instance he could remember of Noire falling to Bruce in great detail but for his efforts all the speedster got was a slightly bemused stare and silence from the Batman. He was absolutely no help in this department because he still kept insisting that Noire _couldn't_ fall.

Only issue was that now when Barry complained about it Bruce would get this knowing look and completely avoid the conversation with the occasional amused word about it here and there. He knew something and that was driving Barry up the damn wall – but that did nothing to solve his clumsy Noire problem. 

It was after a particularly frightening fall from the top most point of the stairs that Barry could simply take no more of this.

“Noire!” He hadn’t meant to shout the boy’s name so harshly, he felt the younger male flinch in his arms even as they came up to protect him from a potentially deadly meeting with the ground.

Barry was fast but sometimes he worried he wasn’t fast enough to guard Noire from his own two legs. If there were a time that he wasn’t there to catch the kid and he got hurt, Barry would lose his mind. He couldn’t stand the thought of not being fast enough and so without meaning to do it, Barry took that fear out on the kid.

“Can’t you be at least a little more careful?” Barry demanded, exasperated by the number of falls Noire had. “What if I’m not here to catch you, huh? What then? You could get hurt Noire! Don’t you understand tha--?”

The kid began to sniffle, effectively brining an end to Barry’s ranting. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Noire. Stubbornly Noire clenched his hands into fists and Barry promised himself he would never let the other know that he could see him fighting back tears. Noire wanted to be tough but Barry wouldn’t have complained if he was a little more open about his feelings – even sad ones.

“I’ve…” Noire began, struggling to keep his voice even and hide the tremble in his words. “I’ve been trying to walk around the house…”

Confused Barry lessened his grip on Noire now that the fear of seeing the young man getting hurt has subsided slightly. Noire was still shaking, his eyes screwed shut with the effort of remaining composed, Barry had lived with him long enough now to recognise this expression, Noire was embarrassed and doing a poor job of hiding it.

“Why were you…” Barry trailed off as slowly the understanding came to him. Oh sure it only took him almost a whole god damn month to realise why Bruce was silently laughing at him from behind his mask.

Noire was a creature that originally spent all his time in the _air_.

From what information Bats had given to him with his run down of Noire’s physical requirements, the boy had almost never needed to walk in the entirety of his life he’d always just flown everywhere. But Barry had never seen Noire do it and over time he’d actually forgotten that the kid even _could_. So that left him with the question as to why Noire kept falling if he could fly.

Just as Barry’s brain was making all the connections Noire spoke up again, his voice holding a note of hostility he’d sometimes use to hide his actual feelings on certain things. “Everyone around here walks, I’ve seen Jordan doing it so…so I figured I could do it as well!” He barked the words angrily and looked in any direction that _wasn’t_ Barry. 

All of the anger and fear Barry had felt just eased out of him as a hint of amusement entered his smile. Noire was stubborn and there was no universe in which he would have asked for help or told anyone that he was trying to walk to make Barry comfortable. Little idiot.

Smiling Barry gave Noire a quick comforting squeeze before standing upright and helping Noire back to his unbalanced feet.

“You’re right.” Barry said with a nod of approval, putting on an act of agreement to keep Noire’s pride intact. “We can’t have Hal showing you up now can we?”

The look of childish fury and resolve on Noire’s face almost caused Barry to lose his composure and laugh aloud. He was still very much a child and Barry was confident he could help the kid grow up in time. So with Noire’s hands in his own, Barry began the long and somewhat hilarious process of teaching Noire the correct way to walk without tripping over his own two feet.

Through most of these lessons Noire’s expression was twisted in determination and sometimes frustration but in the moments when he’d manage to keep his balance and walk competently or when Barry would offer praise – his face just lit up. Barry enjoyed those moments when Noire’s usual unfriendly face would become bright and smile like he was the happiest person on planet earth.

Things like that made Barry glad that Noire had stayed with him after all. They drove each other a little insane sometimes but Barry had always been sure that there was something positive in the kid and Noire seemed to hate him less and less every day.

Yeah, this could work; they just had to move slowly.  
Just taking baby steps.


	3. Black - Noire's Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously Noire, off the roof.

“N-Noire! Get down from there right now!”

God how many times had they been over this? Why did Barry have to keep coming home to the sight of the teenaged-bodied boy sitting up on his roof? He almost regretted showing Noire how to work his legs properly.

“Hm? Why? I like it up here.” He couldn’t figure out if Noire was being cheeky or not. Everything he said was just so flat and void of emotion that Barry couldn’t get a good grip on what he was actually feeling. It was infuriating.

“What do you mean ‘why’? You can’t sleep up on the roof, you shouldn’t even _be_ on the roof!” He knew Noire liked high up places so he could observe his surroundings like a cat, but this was ridiculous!

“Why?” 

If Barry honest had to explain all the reasons why he shouldn't be on the roof, they’d be standing there all day. God he wished Bruce was here, Noire would never muck up with the Bat around – why did he only listen to Bruce in times like this? Barry had practically raised him these past months – so why was Bruce the one Noire listened to? 

All potential jealousy aside, Noire still had to get off that roof.

“Wha--? You can’t be serious. Noire, just come down from there. What if you fell?”

“Then I’d fall.” God, he _wished_ Noire was just being cheeky right now.

“You’re impossible…you’d get hurt if you fell.” Why was that simple logic so hard for Noire to grasp? Didn’t he remember the tumbles he used to take when he was still learning how to manage his own two legs properly? Barry certainly did.

“I’ve never fallen before.” 

Barry had forty separate memories that said otherwise. Oh sure, he hadn’t fallen from the _roof_ before, but he could add that to the list of things that Noire had fallen off.

“How many times have you been up there?” Had Barry failed as a parent figure because he couldn’t get this kid off the roof? How was he supposed to raise his own kids one day if he couldn’t even manage Noire?

Oh god he was going to be on TV as that one idiot foster father that couldn’t keep his kids from falling to their death from the rooftop! He didn’t want to be deadbeat foster father of the year!

“I didn’t count.”

And the award for deadbeat foster father of the year goes to….

“Right. If you don’t get down from there right now I’m going to call Bruce to drag you down.”  Barry could not see that conversation going well. Actually Barry would probably get in more trouble than Noire if the Bat was called in. But you know, desperate times and all that.

“….”

 _Ha got you._ Barry bit back a grin of victory when Noire remained silent, but in the back of his mind he could feel Bruce glaring somewhere, like he somehow knew he was being used to avoid that deadbeat foster father award.

“Don’t make me start counting young man. _1….2_ …--H-Hey! I said get down, I didn’t say jump!” 

It was a mad dash forward to catch Noire before he had a painful meeting with the ground. The impact knocked the air out of Barry and both he and Noire went tumbling to the ground but at the end of it all neither of them were injured. 

“ _Oof_! Arg…--Noire you’re heavier than you look. What were you thinking! Don’t jump off roofs, what if I didn’t catch you? What then huh?”

“Then the ground would.” That blunt answer…god, why could Noire just be cheeky instead? Sass Barry could deal with, but this blunt, fractured logic was a whole other ball game.

“Besides…” Noire added with a small, careless shrug. “You’ve never let me fall before.”

Caught between feeling honoured by Noire’s trust and a little bit concerned about it, Barry ended up letting out a small sigh as he picked both Noire and himself up off the ground. 

“We have got to work on your logic…”

"Did you forget I can fly?" And Barry swore he saw Noire grin.

Cheeky little crap.


	4. White - Pushing Buttons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alois and Len don't exactly get along all the time.  
> It's about time Alois got some time.

“And what _exactly_ is this?”

Alois didn’t really want to end up in a dodgy place like this, hulled up in some secret base for a bunch of thieves, but this is the life he decided to be a part of when he split from his brother – and thus here he was, living with unsavory types. 

He’d adjusted to the needless amounts of violence he was exposed to and even learned to manage the small irritations that wore on his patience day in and out. Everything was an argument, everything was a power play and Alois just didn’t have the brainpower to process why criminals had to be so damn difficult all the time. 

But he accepted these things. He didn’t complain when a brawl broke out over the most trivial things, nor did he correct the horrible language that came out of some of these people’s mouths. Truly he was very accommodating but what simply could not _stand_ was the ungodly mess he was currently looking at.

Papers strewn around with no real order, coffee cups left half full and empty alike and the unbearable smell of preheated pizza all assaulted Alois’s senses and pride. He’d seen chaos like this a few times before but never to this scale. A heist really did make the whole crew turn a blind eye to the mess that Alois simply could not.

At his own pace, Cold lifted his head up, shifting his attention from the bank lay outs in front of him to the angry little sun streak standing in front of him.

Alois had at first struck the heist master as cold and calculating. Meticulous while simultaneously being equipped with a complete lack of empathy and irrefutable logic. All these things were appealing at the time they had met, in the middle of a heist they’d accidentally scheduled for the same day and place. Coincidences right?

Cold would have shot him with his gun right then and there had the stranger not tossed him all the money he’d taken and walked the other way. Said the money wasn’t actually all that important and he’d already gotten what he was after. Okay, fine with Cold but he wasn’t all that crazy about having someone else get to a target before him – so the next time they met up Cold made time for a little chat with the colorless lad.

And that’s where they found themselves today, sharing a hide out until a better opportunity presented itself. Now, like Len said, at first Alois or ‘White’ seemed like a good addition to his team. Logical and straightforward, a good listener and an even better subordinate. Yeah, on the surface it was a match made in heaven.

What Len hadn’t factored in was the horrible nagging that came with Alois’s presence. He only learned after inviting the young man into their ‘humble abode’ that he couldn’t stand even the slightest messes or shortcomings.

Tricks had gotten the worst of it when White arrived. Every single one of his puppets and toys had been tossed into a large plastic bag and without telling Tricks what was happening Alois would take any toy he found laying on the floor and add it to the bag until Tricks began to notice the loss of his things and panicked. 

It was only when Tricks began to cry that Alois presented him with the bag and explained what he’d been doing. Len had been present for the entire lecture that followed, about the lesson Alois was trying to teach Tricks and the sobbing from the fanatical toy man. He told Tricks that it was important to see what happened when he left things laying around and continued to inform him that the next bag would be going into the trash. Now Len knew a thing or two about tough love but that was just stone cold.

Mick didn’t get off much better – god forbid Alois ever sees a piece of furniture singed in the hideout ever again. The reprimanding had been unbearable and Mick was a slow learner so Cold ended up having to hear it at least four times already and he had it on good faith that he’d be hearing it for a fifth. Mick wasn’t going to stop his little fire games anytime soon. 

But for the most part, Len had been spared Alois’s nagging wrath but when he looked at the furious young man, arms crossed with that familiar look on his face – Len knew that it was finally his turn.

And he’d be damned if he just let Alois talk his ear off – he was the elder out of the two of them and the boss. Alois had no right. 

“Problem?” Len drawled, making it as lazy as possible just to get under the newbie’s skin and judging by the way he bristled it was working.

“Yes.” Alois hissed angrily, as he stalked towards Len and his new heist plans. “There is a problem.”

Len had to hand it to the kid, he was very good at making his every word drip with venom. Weird, when he thought about his clumsy brother it was hard to see any connection between the two of them. Len liked to imagine what it’d be like to have the less troublesome brother on his side – instead Barry got landed with the easier one of the two.

_Typical_

“This place is a pigsty, Cold.” Alois exclaimed with a wide sweeping gesture of his arm over the little planning station Len had set up for their next heist.

“This.” Cold began calmly to correct Alois. “Is a planning area.”

He really did try not to grin when Alois’s eye twitched but Len found it impossible to resist smiling just a little bit. The frustration in every inch of the lad’s body and his effort to remain composed was amusing to watch. Alois didn’t like to shout, didn’t like to lose control and his manners so Len would occasionally push his buttons to see if he could at least get a swear out of the kid. 

Unfortunately Alois seemed to be aware of this little game and only tried hard to remain stoic and collected in front of them. Made for an entertaining game on rainy days. 

“Well, perhaps your _planning_ area.” Len wasn’t a fan of the way Alois stressed the word. “Could look a little more like one.”

Alright, now his pride was being insulted and Len had a few choice things to say about that, but if they were going to play this game he couldn’t lose control and start swearing either. Instead Len purposefully stretched his arms above his head and yawned, taking his dear sweet time.

To Alois’s credit, he didn’t immediately punch Len’s exposed chest when he stretched, but _oh_ how badly he looked like he wanted to. Like it took every ounce of control in his body not to reach out and try shattering Len’s ribcage.

“I’m sorry, did you have a complaint?” Len asked lazily, getting an angry little sound from Alois. “Are you suggesting I take time away from planning the only thing of any importance to us?”

“I’m suggesting that you don’t make such a d—ahem.” _Oh that was close Alois_ , Len smirked faintly noting how Alois tried to calm down enough to keep talking civilly. “—That you don’t make such a mess when you plan.” 

“If you want our heists to go over well, then you’ll learn to live with it.” Len replied abruptly, turning back to his maps as he did. It seemed like being blown off by Cold was the last straw for Alois. 

“There’s no need for this mess!” Alois insisted, voice rising slightly as his temper got the better of him. “It wouldn't kill you to be a little more--!”

“But it just might.” Len snapped back, getting fired up as Alois did. “If I don’t plan this perfectly someone on this team might just die. So I think you can live with a little bit of mess while I work to keep all our hides safe.” 

“That would never happen!” They were shouting now and neither of them seemed to realize it. So much for their composure war.

“Oh really? And just what makes you so confident that it wouldn’t?” Len challenged, whirling around in his chair to face Alois as they argued.

“Because your plans are too damn good! You’re too good to let that happen!”

Alois seemed to realize a moment after the words left his mouth that he’d actually said them. Sure it was shouted in the heat of the moment but it was still there – that was most definitely praise.

Just as Len’s mouth began to curl into a smirk, Alois flew back into action, mouth running a thousand miles a second. 

“Tch! This is nonsense, clean up your work space this instant! I don’t want to see a single hair out of place when I get back, I want the entire place to be in order – just as it _should_ be. How could you possibly be so careless, so thoughtless, so utterly disgusting! This is a place of work, not your personal studio, try to at least pretend you’re professional!”

Len didn’t say a word as Alois shouted and spat insults, that for the most part were completely unreasonable, at him. Instead he watched the flustered kid make all the accusations he wanted as he stomped out of the room. He didn’t need to say a thing to Alois because they both knew exactly who had won that argument.

As Alois’s furious growling faded down the hallway and Len was left alone to his peace to plan again, Cold looked at his workspace for a few seconds thoughtfully. Then with a small sigh of amusement he stood and began to clear away some of the mess. 

So maybe he had been leaving a few things out that he usually would have cleaned away, planning or not.  
But he just wanted to see how many buttons he could press before Alois snapped.

Next time he’d be sure to push a different set of buttons – he didn’t really like working in mess either but the expression on White’s face when he lost their argument had been well worth the effort.

 


	5. Black - Unfriendly Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noire is a cranky cat, no one can convince me otherwise.

Barry had to admit, this was a little more awkward than he’d anticipated.

When he’d invited Hal over during one of his brief visits to the home planet, he hadn’t expected Noire to react like this. Now it was no secret that Noire seemed to be a little turned off Hal but Barry hadn’t thought it was this bad.

For months he and Noire had been getting along better and better and Barry was finally feeling like they could be considered friends as opposed to the hostile relationship they’d started with. Back then Barry had lamented the fact that Noire seemed to hate him – now he knew that Noire had never hated him.

This right here, this was _hate_.  
And it was all directed at Hal.

“So…” Hal began uncomfortably, shifting in his seat across from the lounge Barry was siting on and somewhere Noire was lurking behind. Barry couldn’t see Noire exactly but he could feel the unfriendly atmosphere rolling off his very flesh in icy waves. He could perfectly imagine Noire glaring at Hal from over the edge of the lounge, Barry wouldn’t put it past Noire to actually have his hair standing on end like an cranky cat. 

“How’s it been down here in Central City?” Hal was at least trying to make casual conversation, leaving out most of his bravado and teasing in an effort to appease the furious feline that was no doubt scowling at him through every word he spoke.

“You mean here down on planet earth?” Barry kept his voice light and a little teasing, just trying to be normal. “Well Cold’s crew is all rounded up for a play date in a cell again so for now it’s quiet.” There was no doubt they’d get out again because…come on they _always_ got out. But Barry was always there to put them right back. “What about you? You’ve been off planet for a while now Hal…”

There was a quiet hiss from over Barry’s shoulder that sounded alarmingly like ‘go back there’ from Noire. Encouraging.

If Hal heard Noire’s angry mutterings he did a good job of pretending not to and instead let out a tired chuckle that sounded far too genuine and adult to Barry’s ears. 

“That bad huh?”

“It’s a mess up there Barry.” Hal admitted wearily. “The guardian’s don’t even know where to begin cleaning up this one. Who knew yellow was going to be the colour of every problem in my life.” 

“Ha, taking a page out of my book are you?” Barry chuckled, copying Hal’s exhausted expression. What was it about villains in yellow that just made life so damn hard? 

“Yellow? There’s…yellow versions of you?” Noire piped up, at least not growling the words so much as murmuring them curiously. And Hal – god bless him for trying – spoke up in the hopes of getting a civil response out of Noire this time. 

“Do you know about the lantern corps, Noire?” There was an icy silence after Hal’s question and Barry watched the lantern try to gather his resolve and push on. “Do you like them?”

Barry knew Noire well enough to guess that he was at the very least interested in the lantern corps. He frequently caught the little shadow taking peeks at the stories about the lanterns on the television and newspaper – once Barry even caught Noire comparing notes on the computer about lanterns while looking up at the sky like he might be able to see them. 

Of course if Noire was ever caught doing this he was quick to deny it all and fly into a rage before locking himself in his room. Barry couldn’t figure out if he liked the idea of lanterns and was simple embarrassed by it or if he was looking for ways to kill them – could have gone either way really. Somehow that put him in mind of Batman just a touch – definitely not the good influence he’d hoped Bruce would be.

“I don’t.” Noire replied coldly and Hal looked disappointed when his attempt at conversation was shut down. “But…” Hal’s gaze lifted slightly when Noire continued to speak, still keeping the hostile tone but apparently unable to bite back his interest. “…you could talk about them for a bit. I don’t care.” 

Hal had smiled along with Barry, it still didn’t quiet feel like Noire was going to be getting chummy with Hal anytime soon but at least he hadn’t snarled at him again. Noire had been known to actually hiss at Hal from time to time when he’d visit.

The rest of that visit and every visit that followed was spent with Noire remaining in his position behind or on the lounge, glaring at Hal as he and Barry talked with the occasional word here and there. Thankfully he did seem to be mostly content just listening and didn’t try to chase Hal out like he had once or twice in the past. There developed a sort of pattern, so Barry wasn’t the least bit surprised when the hostile atmosphere suddenly faded towards the later hours of the evening, and with a checking glance Barry confirmed that Noire had fallen asleep.

He so frequently refused food and rest, it was like he forgot that he actually needed to do those things to function in a human body and so sometimes he would simply drop wherever he was and just sleep. The sudden loss of Noire’s glaring eyes was their cue to finally relax. 

“Seriously Bear.” Hal leant forward, resting his elbows against his knees as he eyed his best friend cautiously. “How are you holding up?” 

“You mean how am I handling being the little terror’s carer?” Barry couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked at the tiny ball that was Noire as he slept, curled up next to him. He really did look like a cat sometimes. 

“It’s not all that bad.” He decided finally. “He has all these odd little habits and I can never figure out what he is thinking, but it’s not bad.” 

His ‘odd little habits’ included the periodic stalking Barry around the house, always staying in the closest room to Barry and staring in at him like he wasn’t being obvious with his creepy need to observe his caretaker. The sudden appearance of crudely drawn children scribbles scattered around the house, the removal of which would result in a scathing glare from Noire – so they stayed wherever Barry found them. Not to mention his horrible sleeping habits, sometimes Barry found him nesting on top of the fridge or under the stairs instead of in bed. 

“I’m going to go grey young…” Barry sobbed, slumping forward in his seat. Hal – being the gem of a friend he was – laughed. In his defence he did lean over to pat Barry comfortingly on the shoulder, but a clap on the back didn’t get Noire off the roof at one in the morning. 

“I’d take him off your hands but…” Hal glanced at the sleeping kid with a sorry sort of smile on his face. “I’m pretty sure he’d claw my face off.” 

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you that….” Hal was giving him that look that told him not to try and bullshit. Fair enough. “Okay, so he needs to do some warming up to you.” Barry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a small smile. “He took a while to warm up to me as well, you’ll be fine.”

“Nah.” The tone of that simple word caught Barry off guard. Hal sounded genuinely crestfallen but he kept the smile on in a way that Barry could only label as accepting. “It’s all good. You did wonders for the kid Bear. He looks good, healthy.” 

Barry had never asked Hal exactly what it was he felt he owed to Noire and Alois, but the green lantern had never failed to be there when Barry called. If Noire was lost – probably on the roof mind you – or sick, or anything really. Hal had always been there in a heartbeat, even if Noire hated his very existence.

Whenever Barry tried to ask about it Hal would usually make his excuses and leave, but on the odd occasion he’d give Barry some sort of information. 

“Just repaying a debt.” He’d once said after Barry had panicked when Noire was missing in Central City for a good ten hours. Turns out he’d gotten bored and gone looking for Barry’s place of work and gotten distracted along the way. Hal managed to find him, but as usual Noire didn’t make the process easy and immediately clung to Barry once he was returned. 

Then the first time Noire ever got really sick and Barry didn’t know what to do, Hal had shown up with an impossibly large haul of every medicine known to man and a few from off planet. They were still trying to find places to put the access medical supplies. But when Noire’s fever began to go down and they were calm enough to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation – Barry had asked again and got a different answer. 

“Just repaying a friend.” It was the slightest change in answer but Barry had committed it to memory. 

He never pushed more than that because Hal – for all his bravado and terrible pick up lines – did have a seriousness to him when he needed it. And when he talked about this ‘friend’ he looked like the wound was still too fresh to openly talk about. So Barry respected that, and he patiently waited for the day Hal would share with him what it was that kept him coming back when Barry called. 

“He’ll be an adult soon.” Hal mused, breaking Barry out of his pondering. “The first time I saw him he was only a tiny kid, that was what…? Nine months ago now? Damn he got big fast.” 

It was true and at first it had been a source of concern for Barry, seeing Noire rapidly progress from child to teen and now entering young adult. Thankfully that did skip over a lot of the teenager problems, though occasionally Barry wanted to know what it’d be like for Noire to bring a girl home just so he could embarrass him.

Had Noire ever even talked to a girl before…?  
Probably not. 

“Spooky says that once he’s fully grown he’ll need his own mask.” Hal continued offhandedly and Barry instinctively frowned. “Not keen on throwing him out into the fray huh care-bear?”

“First of all: Don’t. Secondly, I just don’t see why he needs to be a hero at all. He only learnt to walk correctly a few months ago for Christ’s sake.”

“Wow, momma-bear--”

“Seriously, _don’t_.”

Hal ignored him and continued on. “--you do realise he is literally made of shadows right? He isn’t exactly going to spend his life filing reports or going to school.”

“I thought maybe he could go to college…” Hal was giving him that mocking look again and Barry bit back a groan. There was no way Noire was ready for that sort of social interaction. “Okay, maybe not yet, but…” 

“Barry.” Hal touched his shoulder and this time it really did feel more comforting. “He’ll be fine.”

Hal might not have been the most upstanding friend or worker, but he had never failed Barry when it came to being a hero and partner. If Hal thought Noire would be alright, Barry was just going to have to trust him.

“Did Bats tell you to say that?”

“…maybe.”


End file.
